


The Sex Mug

by cosmictrap



Category: New Girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 12:38:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12912093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmictrap/pseuds/cosmictrap
Summary: -Reunion Fic- Nick decides to pick the sex mug out of the trash can after all, but it's gone. A little peak inside his head, and then into Jess's, before he confronts Jess about its absence.





	1. Chapter 1

Nick lay in his bed, lost in thought while gazing at the ceiling, an uncomfortable feeling building in his throat. Every muscle in his body had groaned in protest at his resistance from wrestling the mug out of Jess's hands when she'd dropped it in the trashcan. He'd seen it leave her hands, almost in slow motion, and fall into the bin with a clunk and felt a dull ache.

_Was this it?_

The fact that she'd put it out on the table a couple of days ago had made his heart pound, and he wanted to punch himself for not having noticed it. A thrill ran through him at the thought of what would've happened if he'd seen it. He sure as hell would have stormed to her bedroom, no questions asked, and kissed her senseless and probably have taken her then and there. He wasn't one to question things when it came to her and especially not the confidence that seemed to appear out of nowhere when she was involved.

Their first kiss, the first time they'd made love... the first time he'd told her he loved her.

Ever since that godawful night he still sometimes had nightmares about, he'd been bitter towards himself. Resentful that his confidence had abandoned him when he'd needed it the most. The one day where even an ounce of it would have helped him salvage the best thing that had happened to him, but there he'd been. Standing mutely as she'd slipped through his fingers, and one second they were fighting over that stupid kid's gift and a whirlwind of questions later, they'd been standing in the hallway, heavy-hearted, hugging like their lives depended on it. And it then it was goodbye.

He'd never really believed that though. That it was goodbye. As he'd watched the mug fall in the bin, he'd realised that somewhere deep inside, he'd been subconsciously nursing a hope that Jess and him would eventually get back together. Unwelcome, the thought of how he'd always been sure that irrespective of the Ryans and Kais, they'd find their way back to each other settled itself in his head. The image of the mug, nestled in the trashcan with the other garbage, resonated with a finality that hurt.

A part of him couldn't believe at how Jess had so easily thrown it away, especially given how sentimental she usually was. She kept things that still held some value to her, and he'd always thought that the mug meant something to her; it still meant something to him. Was this really a clean break? He knew it wasn't for him. The mug maybe in the garbage, but his feelings were, unfortunately, not attached to the mug. Just because the mug was gone, didn't mean his feelings would.

As he tried to sleep, he couldn't get the image of the mug out of head. With a frustrated groan, he opened his eyes to frown at the ceiling.

_Fuck clean break._

He swung his legs off the bed, throwing the covers off of him. He walked to his door and opened it softly, peeping into the hallway to make sure no one was aroud,d He tiptoed towards the kitchen and stopped at the trashcan, scanning his surroundings one last time to ensure everyone was in their beds, he bent over and started to put his arm into the trashcan towards exactly where he'd seen the mug, and froze.

_The mug was gone._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jess's perspective

Jess lay in bed, her feelings a jumble of emotions. It had taken every ounce of her strength to not to tear up when she was dropping the mug into the bin. She had hoped against hope that it wouldn't break on impact. So she had carefully (but seemingly carelessly) dropped the mug on a plastic bag filled with tissues.

She wished Nick had seen that stupid mug she'd put out the other day. It would've been embarrassing if he hadn't acted on it of course, but knowing Nick, he probably would have. If not  _act_ on it, he would've at least called her out on it, demanding to know what it meant. And maybe she would've told him.

_Maybe._

And then, they would have been at a different place by now. Probably.

A part of her had been hoping that Nick would have disagreed, not let her throw it away. When he didn't, a part of her felt crushed. The part that was somehow convinced that no matter the Ryans and Kais, they'd find their way back to each other. But as she watched the mug fall, and when he didn't stop her, she'd realized that maybe this was it.

_This was it._

The mug meant to something her, and it always would. And Jessica Day was a sentimental woman; anything that held any meaning to her, she kept. She'd been accused of being a hoarder on plenty of occasions. Yes, she was a hoarder.

_A hoarder of sentiments._

And that mug held more sentiment than anything else. She knew that it was  _her_ idea of a perfect life that had doomed her relationship with Nick. And she regretted that more than anyone knew. Letting go of a man that truly loved you with every fibre of his being hurt left a hollow place in your heart. And that void only expanded with the knowledge that you yourself would probably never loved someone the way you loved him.

_I'll probably die alone._

So her plan to ensure that it didn't break was only so she could pick it back up later. She lay in bed, carefully listening for the noises outside to subside. Once she was sure everyone had gone to bed, she threw her covers aside and carefully walked out of her bedroom. Tiptoeing towards the kitchen, she stopped at the trash can and scanned her surroundings to ensure she was alone. Taking a deep breath, she reached into the trash can and gingerly picked up the mug. She stared at it with sad eyes, the finality of it all starting to sink in.

Shaking her head, she walked towards the kitchen and rinsed the mug once. She dried it carefully with a kitchen towel and cupping it with both her hands, she slowly walked back to her bedroom. Placing the mug on her desk, she closed the door behind her softly. She sat down on her chair and stared at it, her finger tracing the ring of the mug as a sigh escaped her. She should probably put it in her Nick Box.

She cringed inwardly.  _Nick Box._

She hoped no one would ever find it because... so many questions. That would be her darkest secret, tucked away into the darkest corner of her closet. Standing up, she walked to her closet and pulled out a large hatbox from behind all her winter wear. She placed it gingerly on her desk and before going through her drawers, hoping to find some bubblewrap to wrap it in.

She froze when she heard a door click open outside, followed by a familiar creak.

_Nick._

What was he doing up!?

She started to feel panic build in her chest, as she strained to listen. She heard his footsteps fade, and tried to calm herself a little.

_He probably only wants some water._

She waited for the footsteps to go back to his room, but they didn't. Straining, she tried to listen, and finally she heard them come from the hallway. She held her breath when the stopped outside the hallway.

The knocking on her door filled her with a panic as her heart pounded away madly.

"Jess?"

She started to look around her frantically, eyeing the bubble wrap,  _the box_  and the mug, innocently sitting on her table.

He knocked harder. "Jessica!"

"Y-Yes, Nick?" she said, trying to keep her voice even.

"I need to talk to you about something," he said, his voice deathly quiet.

"S-sure," she said, gathering the box and the mug in her arms and starting to head towards the closet, but when the door clicked open, she took a step back and thrust both of them on her desk. As the door started to open, and Nick entered, she hopped on to the table to sit in front of the incriminating box and mug, hoping that they were well hidden from his view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Leave reviews, please. Part 3 coming up asap.


	3. Chapter 3

Nick thought his heart would jump out of his chest.

_The mug was gone!_

And he stared at Jess's door for a few seconds before he started to smile. He caught himself before he could start grinning fully; he wasn't sure yet, what it could mean. It could mean a ton of other things.

_Oh yeah? Like what!_

He shook his head. No, he wouldn't do this himself. Not until he knew for sure. He walked towards her bedroom and stood in the hallway for a few seconds, debating.

Maybe he should just let it slide; what could he possibly ask her?!

But he also knew that wouldn't be a wise idea because if he didn't know, he would be kept awake at night, all sorts of thoughts coming to his head. The longer he put this off, the more his thoughts were bound to spiral out of control. Taking a deep breath, he stepped closer to the door, and knocked.

"Jess?"

_Oh shit, this was a bad idea! Nick, you idiot! This will end up being awkward for both of you!_

When he got no answer from her, he wondered if she was asleep. If she was, she wouldn't take too well about being woken up about this. But if she was asleep, who had the damned mug!?

_It had to be her._

He knocked again, harder. "Jessica?"

_Oh, wonderful. I had the chance to leave when she didn't answer the first time. Maybe she wouldn't again and he could just-_

_"_ Y-yes, Nick?"

_And there. No going back now, Miller._

Taking a deep breath, he frowned in concentration, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. "I need to talk to you about something."

"S-sure."

As he started to open the door, he wondered if he was imagining the nervousness in her voice. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Still facing the door for a moment he inhaled deeply and started to turn when he spotted her sitting on her desk, feet in her chair, looking at him intently while her hands fidgeted in her lap.

 _So she_ is _nervous._

Feeling the familiar spike of confidence, he casually leaned against the door and looked at her coolly. He said nothing and stood there quietly, staring at her while she looked at him questioningly. She was in her plaid pyjamas, he noted and couldn't help the lazy smile that started to form on his face.

...

The first thing Jess had noticed when he walked into her room was that he was wearing a grey henley; one of her favourites. Annoyed at the thought, she looked at him questioningly. She didn't need twirl-inducing thoughts in her brain when the damned mug was sitting right behind her.

_What does he look so smug about?_

Jess frowned slightly. She racked her brains, trying to think if she had bet on something that she had lost. But came up with nothing. Her eyes widened a little when he started to smile and crossed his arms, and her eyes were drawn to his hand where that one vein always popped when his muscles tensed; she used to love running her fingers on that lightly.

Starting to feel annoyed, she looked at him. "What do you want?" she asked, more snappily than she'd intended. She winced and merely looked at him apologetically as he continued to smile.

"Why're you sitting on your desk, Jess?" he asked, amusement evident on his face.

"I- I was doing some... craft?" she said, trying to keep her voice even.

"Oh, fun! Let me see," he said, craning his neck.

She narrowed his eyes at him and shifted her body in sync to his straining neck, desperately trying to block his view.

"It's not finished," she said quietly.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes," she nodded vigorously, sighing inwardly at how she'd have to be up late to actually do some presentable craft project she could show him tomorrow.

_Maybe he won't remember._

"Great," he said. "Although it i _s quite_  strange it should take that long," he started, pausing for effect, before cocking his head to one side and adding, "I mean what possible additions could you make to readymade objects?"

Jess froze, trying not to read too much into his words.

_How could he possibly know? He is not the sentimental type to go back for the mug._

"I-I'll have you know that every piece of my craft is original. And made from scratch, by yours truly," she said adamantly.

He stared at her for a few seconds before sighing deeply. "Really, Jess? We're doing this?"

"Do what what way, Nicholas? I don't know what you're talking about," she insisted, while every part of her brain was screaming  _He knows, he knows, he knows_  on a loop.

He scowled at her. "I know you have the mug."

She stuck her chin up defensively, refusing to admit it even though she knew she was this close to being caught red-handed. Quirking an eyebrow at her silent denial, he walked towards her, each step slow and careful. He was now standing in front of her, one hand resting on the back of the chair on his side. He leaned closer and watched her gulp nervously, oblivious to his hand that went towards her side, lightly brushing her hip as it went behind her. His cheek was brushing against her, and he whispered softly, "I see the handle, Jessica."

Gasping when he pulled back with the mug in his hand, she felt colour rush up her cheeks as she leapt off the table to grab it from his hands. The chair had been knocked aside and she was not standing in front of his, hands on her hips, feeling a mixture of annoyance and nervousness.

"Give me it, it's mine!" she growled.

"If I remember correctly, Jessica, it's  _ours_ ," he said quietly.

"This mug is not  _that mug_ ," she lied again. "It's another one of those Ass Strat mugs that are just lying around."

"Really?" he said, incredulous at her obvious lies. "So if I walk out of this room and peek into the trash, I'll find one of these?" he asked, shaking the mug at her.

"Yes," she said through her lips.

Raising his eyebrows, he tilted his head with a mocking smile. "Oh? Let's check then," he said, starting to open the door.

Frustrated, she caught his arm and pulled him back, crossing her arms when he looked at her. "Okay, okay. I lied. This mug  _is the mug."_

"You  _can_  say 'sex', you know. We've done it plenty of times and-"

"Nick!" she cut him off eyes wide.

_What does he want!_

"Fine! The  _sex mug._ This mug is the  _sex mug_ ," she admitted, throwing her arms up in surrender. " _But_  it's not  _ours._ It's  _mine,"_ she added.

"What! Jess, we both-"

"Oh, I know," she said, cutting him off again. "But you forfeit your ownership when you let me throw it," she added, her voice small.

"For a clean break, yes," he said, looking at her sadly, the humour gone from his eyes. "And it was  _your_  idea."

"You agreed to it," she said, looking up at him.

"I did," he said, nodding. "And yet here it is..."

She looked at him hard and something in her brain clicked. "And here  _you_ are..." she said softly, her eyes widening at him. "How did you know I had it, Nicholas?"

Nick's head snapped up. "Um, what? I- I came to talk to you, and I saw it behind you, that's all," he insisted.

_Why am I lying about this!_

"Right, so what did you come to talk to me about?" she asked, starting to smirk.

He looked around the room, searching frantically for  _something._

"Admit it Nicholas, you went to get the mug!" she exclaimed, her heart beating faster. "Aw, so you  _are_ sentimental."

"Actually I wanted to borrow... I needed... a... er, a box!" he lied, his eyes landing on the box behind her. He lunged forward towards her desk and Jess's eyes widened as she realized what was happening.

"Nick, no! That box has..."

"Just like this one!" he said grabbing the box and looking at her triumphant just as the lid of the box came off at it's hinges.

"...a faulty lid," she finished, flinching when the box crashed on to the floor, its contents spilling all over the floor, as Nick stared at the lid that was still in his hands.

"Jess, I'm so sorry..." he said, surprised, and turned to see that she was already on her knees, hurriedly collecting everything.

"It's-it's fine," she said, waving a hand at him. "The hinges of that box are kinda... weird."

Setting the mug on her desk, he knelt next to her to help, amused at the  _variety_ of contents that box seemed to have - pieces of papers, and even...  _was that a shirt!?._ As he started to pick some things up, she swatted his hands away anxiously. "Nick, go away, it's fine. Go get some sleep, I'll clean up!" she said, trying not to sound frantic.

"No, Jess, it's alright! I-I won't be able to sleep much anyway," he assured her, and as he started to pick things up, he froze. He sat down on the floor properly, cross-legged, staring at the strip of paper in his hands.

"Jess," he said quietly. "Where did you get this?"

Jess turned to him slowly, knowing that that question could be about any damn thing from the box. She looked at the piece of paper in his hands and let out a nervous chuckle. "They were just sitting in the slot when we stepped out of the booth, so I picked them up," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Nick stared at the row of photos, three of them. In all the three of them, they were both looking at each other - his eyes were tired, and his hair tousled, her hair over one shoulder as she smiled at him in that purple dress.

"I almost kissed you that day, you know," he said softly, marvelling at how  _in love_ he looked; way back then.

She inhaled sharply, trying to control her breathing. "I would've kissed you back if you had," she said, sitting down next to him.

He nodded once, handing the photos to her. She took it quietly and put it in her box. He reached for the shirt, a black one with white and grey checks, and handed it to her. As she took it from him, he suddenly tightened his grip on it again. "Jess," he said slowly, "Is this _mine_?"

"No, Nicholas. I love keeping a collection of plaid shirts, which consists of just  _one_ shirt," she said sarcastically, trying to cover her the rising panic in her voice.

Still holding on to the shirt, he turned to look at her fully. "This used to be your favourite."

"Yes."

"And it's sitting in a hatbox."

"Yes."

"Why?"

" _Because it's my favourite,_ " she said, as if that was the obvious answer, avoiding the obvious question.

"When did you take it?" he asked, not taking his eyes off her.

She played with her fingers. "When you left for work... the  _next day_."

He stared at her, knowing what she meant. "Why?"

"I... You  _know_  why," she said bitterly. "I am a freaking sentimental person."

"You still have it."

"Obviously."

He looked around and got hold of the first piece of paper his hand found. Frowning his concentration, he examined it. "This... this the reciept from our first date."

"Wasn't much of a date," she said chuckling.

"No, it wasn't..." he agreed, and he reached to pick up the bright green band that caught his eyes. "And this is..."

"From Mexico, yes," she said.

_Not long now._

Not taking his eyes off her, he bunched up a few pieces of papers from the floor and looked at each of them.

"Jess, these are all..."

"Yes, Nick," she said, suddenly feeling tired. "Receipts and ticket stubs from our dates... some photos."

_Where was this going?_

"Why do you have all of these!?" he asked, looking at her.

She got to her feet, frustrated. " _Because I'm a sentimental idiot, dammit!"_

He spotted a photo of him in all that paper and picked it up before standing and facing her. "When did you take this?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath. "We were at the beach. One of our dates. You looked great in that powder blue shirt and I just..." she trailed away, shaking her head.

Nick was standing in the ankle-deep water, head half-turned against the setting sun.

"And what about this?" he asked, bending to pick one of him and her in the theatre.

"My birthday. Cece had clicked it," she said, taking a look at it.

She was smiling with tears in her eyes, eyes on the screen while his elbow was resting on the handle of his chair, face resting in his hand as he stared at her with a smile tugging at his lips.

Jess waited for him to say something, but when he didn't, she chanced a look at his face. He was already staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Well, not really unreadable; she just hadn't seen it in a long time.

"Nick..." she said, softly.

He said nothing, and stood very still. "You should get some sleep," she whispered, before starting to walk towards her bed, feeling emotionally drained. Things were going to be awkward between them again.

_Stupid, sentimental Jessica._

As Nick watched her walk towards her bed, muttering under her breath, he took a step forward and grabbed her elbow, turning her towards him. His other hand went to cup the back of her neck as he crashed his lips against her. His hand left her elbow and snaked around her waist, bringing her closer to him. His heart beat faster when he felt her melt against him, opening her mouth for him. He kissed her hard, filled with need, groaning when her hands tugged at his hair in that familiar way he loved so much. He bit her lower lip as he felt her hands crawl up his chest, bunching the material of his shirt in her hands, tugging slightly. They broke apart for a moment, staring at each other.

"Are we really doing this again?" he asked, filled with wonder, and slight fear that she'd say no.

She chuckled tucking her head under his chin. "The mug is already on the table. Not  _the_ table, but a table all the same," she said softly.

Feeling slightly giddy when she felt the rumble of his laughter, she looked up at him to find that he was smiling at her. Her hands went to the hem of his shirt and tugged again, and he took a step back to take his shirt off. He pulled it off in a fluid movement and caught her hands as they went to take off her own. "Let me," he said, softly, reaching forward to unbotton her the front of her shirt, slowly, eyes never leaving hers. As he undid her her last button, he went behind her to gently pulled at the shirt. She shrugged out of it and turned to look at him again, starting to unbotton her pyjamas as well. He waited patiently for her to step out of them and the moment she did, he grabbed her by the waist and kissed her jaw before taking her lips again.

Leaving one hand in her hair, his other found her thighs and caressed them. Understanding the message, she wrapped both her legs around him, lips still on his. Grunting, he started to stumble forward towards her bed till his knees hit the edge of the bed and they both fell on the mattress.

Breaking apart for air, Nick stared at Jess, who was breathing raggedly under him her lips swollen, her blue eyes lit up in a way he hadn't seen in a long time. In a way that made his heart feel a lot lighter.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

"I know," she said kissing his chin before taking his lips again. "I love you too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry to end here. I suck at smut, and writing even this small scene of semi-not-so-smut-smut stressed me out, so I stopped before my writing turned excessively shitty.
> 
> While writing this fic, I have decided that I'll write a Season 5 fix-it. Involving the sex mug. A lot.
> 
> Ritualistic Begging: Leave me reviews please, they fuel my obsession, thanks :)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I know it's short, and the next part is coming up very very soon... Like today soon. I just wanted two different chapters for each of their perspectives.
> 
> The reunion WILL happen in this fic. It should be finished by the end of today.
> 
> Going to be a LOT different than in the show.


End file.
